Trouble
by cynicalspring
Summary: Lydia gets drunk and nostalgic on a special evening. One-shot Song fic. Movieverse. m for mild grown up stuff & junk. BLARRRRRGH formatting is being a pain in the butt. :/


_A/N... Well, I've wanted to write this for a while, but I'm not entirely happy with it. The song is Trouble by Cat Stevens. It's amazing. It works for a billion situations and is just the right amount of angst ridden. Unfortunately I don't think I did the premise of this fiction justice, SO if anyone wants to tune it up after reading it, let me know. I'll happily oblige._

* * *

_Trouble_

_ Oh trouble set me free_

_ I have seen your face_

_ And it's too much too much for me_

She picked up the bottle of Lagavulin, and let herself fall into the inviting cushions of the worn but comfortable couch that took up entirely too much of her long island studio apartment. She held the bottle up to the yellow-orange glow cast by the flames in the gas fireplace and frowned as she studied the amber liquor. There was less than half left.

"Damn…"

_Trouble_

_ Oh trouble can't you see_

_ You're eating my heart away_

_ And there's nothing much left of me_

She brought the bottle to her lips and swallowed, relishing the burning sensation as the scotch settled in her stomach. She absent-mindedly tapped the gold band on her left ring finger against the glass bottle. He would be here soon. She didn't see him often but this was the one night a year she could count on seeing him. In 15 years he never missed it.

_I've drunk your wine_

_You have made your world mine_

_So won't you be fair_

_So won't you be fair_

Her mind began to ponder her current situation and how she never should have let it get this far. Maybe she wanted it to get this far… maybe she was sick. She was definitely unclean. He had made sure of that. The first time he came to her and put his hands on her… There wasn't enough booze in the world to erase the memory or change the fact that she had, in some perverse way, liked it. She thought back to the first night it had happened…

_I don't want no more of you_

_ So won't you be kind to me_

_ Just let me go where_

_ I'll have to go there_

She was sure it had been a dream. Cold, stiff hands roaming on her warm flesh, a gritty rumbling voice in her ear absent of breath… Her pale cheeks flushed as desire pooled in the pit of her stomach… She woke with a start as she felt something, someone enter her. He crushed his hand to her face and stifled her scream. She looked into his eyes pleading, begging for him to stop… but she soon found herself lost in his preternatural gaze. Silently, He began to move inside her and much to her horror, her body betrayed her, moving with his practically aching for release. She found herself swept up in a wave of sensation as he drove them over the edge of pleasure, devouring her mouth with his, muffling her cries. She was sobbing when he rolled off of her and stood up, and she buried her face in her pillow. He leaned over, kissed her on her forehead, and slid the ring from a year ago back over her finger.

"Till death do us part, Babes"

_Trouble_

_ Oh trouble move away_

_ I have seen your face_

_ and it's too much for me today_

She took a long draught of scotch as the revulsion washed over her at the memory, and snorted in disdain. They all thought they were safe, but the dead never stay buried. He came back a year after what her parents had dubbed "the incident" to claim what was his. He had stolen her innocence, violated her in the worst way, and left her wanting more.

_Trouble_

_ Oh trouble can't you see_

_ You have made me a wreck_

_ Now won't you leave me in my misery_

He always seemed to know when his presence would cause the most damage. He would come to her when she was at her happiest, and defile her. He had cost her everything. School, her career, friends, family, all of it gone, or at least that's how she saw it. She held everyone at arm's length, afraid they would sense him on her. Perhaps even more vile, he would come to her when she was at her lowest. Another shot of liquor brought with it another memory

_I've seen your eyes_

_and I can see death's disguise_

_Hangin' on me_

_Hangin' on me_

She had spent much of her 26th birthday in a drunken stupor. Her casual paramour had called it off the night before, and she had failed out of her second attempt at art school. She drowned her feelings in cheap rum for the better part of the evening as she gathered her courage to take the pills. She was going to make it all stop. All of it. And like a moth to a miserable flame, as she lifted the pills to her mouth he was there. He smacked the cyanide from her hand, grabbed her wrist and yanked her body to his. He closed his eyes, put his forehead to hers and asker her the same question he had asked her over a decade before

"Why?... "

_I'm beat, I'm torn_

_ Shattered and tossed and worn_

_ Too shocking to see_

_ Too shocking to see_

She had collapsed against his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. "I'm dirty... and it's all… your… fault…"

"Well shit babes, you shoulda said so."

There was a gust of air and suddenly he dropped her into the water. After a bit of struggling her feet found purchase and her head broke the surface. She gasped & gulped in the cool air in between frantic cursing. As her vision came into focus she was speechless. The pool was immense, the clear water full of ancient broken marble columns and surrounded by roman ruins & lush greenery. Light headed from the rum & change of scenery, She didn't even notice as cold clammy arms snaked around her waist from behind.

"Where are we?"

"An old roman bathhouse in Turkey. Man those guys knew how to party." A depraved grin spread across his face as he spun her around, lifted her up and helped her wrap her legs around his waist. "You owe me big Lyds. Baths. You know_ I_ hate em." He grabbed a fistful of her hair and crushed his mouth to hers.

_Trouble_

_ Oh trouble move from me_

_ I have paid my debt_

_ Now won't you leave me in my misery_

A faint hint of a smile crossed her lips as she relived the memory. That was the night it hit her. Despite everything he had done to her, turned her in to, She needed him. He was heroin and she was addicted. She never felt so alive as she did when she was with him, selfish death parading as a man. And she hated herself for it. She frowned when she noticed the scotch was gone, and was about to get up to get a new one, but something held her down. She felt a pointed tongue snake up her neck and tease her earlobe.

He was here. She closed her eyes and let him invade her entire being, consigning herself to the fact that for tonight, at least, she was his.

_Trouble_

_ Oh trouble please be kind_

_ I don't want no fight_

_ And I haven't got a lot of time_

A voice whispered in her mind as they drifted towards oblivion.

"Happy Anniversary, Lydia."


End file.
